


Cruel Summer (formerly Life of Crime)

by Authorexx



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Domestic Violence, Eventual Romance, F/F, F/M, Gen, Gun Violence, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 21:40:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28910235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Authorexx/pseuds/Authorexx
Summary: Amanda's just trying to survive a long Georgia summer.  With a family like hers, that's no easy feat.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 6





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This one goes out to the Special Fan Unit! I hope you get a laugh out of it. -Ax

The heat of the Georgia summer seemed to creep into every part of the Rollins household. There was no escape from the suffocating humidity; not even a box fan over a bowl of ice on the screened-in porch would help. Amanda was engrossed in a magazine, laid out on a beach towel, thumbing aimlessly through the pages of the hottest teen star gossip and fashion tips as the radio blared the forecast—this summer heat was going to be endless. Her bangs clung to her forehead, slicked there with sweat, and she rolled over onto her stomach, pushing the hair off her skin. The back door was open wide, allowing what little cross-breeze there was to flow through the house. She’d have normally laid out in the backyard to read, but it was the middle of the afternoon and the sun was blazing.

The slap of bare feet on the linoleum just inside the house alerted Amanda to another presence. “Umm, ‘Manda?” It was Kim, standing in the doorway, a plastic comb in hand. “Can you braid my hair again?” The younger girl swayed back and forth, running her finger over the fine plastic teeth—she was never able to keep still. “Please?”

“C’mere, kiddo,” Amanda sighed, dropping the magazine and waving her sister over, sitting up on the towel. “Criss-cross applesauce.” She plucked the comb from her little sister’s grip, beginning to run it through Kim’s sandy blonde hair. “It’s gettin’ long, Kimmie. You should get it cut; it’s too hot for all that.”

“But I like having long hair,” protested Kim, frowning. “It makes me feel like a mermaid.”

Amanda chuckled, parting Kim’s hair down the middle and starting a braid on the right side. “Where’re you swimmin’ to anyhow? We don’t have a pool.”

“I know… but I can still be a mermaid.” Kim fished an ice cube from the bowl and popped it in her mouth, sighing contentedly at the chilly sensation.

“Well, miss mermaid, you wanna go get some Slurpees?” Amanda’s hands weaved her sister’s hair delicately across her scalp, creating a neat French braid that would keep it off her face.

“Can I ride on your bike pegs, ‘Manda?” Kim asked, looking over her shoulder in excitement, “And can I get some candy too?”

“Quit wiggling, lemme finish your hair.” Amanda swatted her with the comb and secured the first side with a hair tie before moving to the left side, making short work of it as well. “I don’t see why not…” Amanda mused aloud, “It’s a Friday. Mama wouldn’t mind, I don’t think.”

Kim jumped up, tossing her braids around her shoulders. “Thanks, ‘Manda.”

“Lemme tell mama we’re goin’ and we can go. Get your shoes on.” Amanda ventured back into the house, picking up her sneakers by the door as she walked through the house to her bedroom. “Mama,” she called, “Kimmie and I are goin’ to the Seven-Eleven—you need anything?”

Her mother’s head poked out from the kitchen. “No, Amanda. Just don’t get your sister hurt, okay?”

“I’ll do my best,” Amanda said, rolling her eyes as she opened her sock drawer—inside was what little pocket money she had to her name, safely tucked away from her parents’ prying eyes. She closed the drawer, counting it and recounting it, ensuring it hadn’t been found before folding the fistful of bills into her pocket and making her way back to the front door.

“C’mon, let’s go.” Amanda handed Kim her bike helmet, balancing her on the back wheel’s pegs as they took off down the street. The heat became less stifling as they sped down the sidewalk, glancing around the neighborhood. For once in her life, Kim sat almost perfectly still, and Amanda propelled them through the streets of Loganville, the breeze lifting her hair from the back of her neck. They rolled up to the convenience store and Amanda locked up her bike. Amanda opened the door, feeling the cold prickle of proper, working air conditioning on her burning skin as she followed Kim inside.

“You want cherry, blue raspberry, or Coke?” Amanda led her sister to the far end of the store, pulling two cups from their place beside the machine. She popped the lids on both, filling hers to the brim with frozen Coke. Kim hadn’t made her choice yet, and Amanda turned, “Kimmie, which one; we don’t have all day.”

Kim was hypnotized by the rotating of the Slurpee machines, awestruck at the monolith of frozen sugary treats. “’Manda, it’s beautiful.”

Amanda rolled her eyes and nudged her sister. “Just pick.”

“The blue one! Wait, no. Cherry. No, blue! Can I get both, ‘Manda? Please?” Kim bounced impatiently, pleading with her sister.

“Just one; I can only pay for two. You said blue first.” Amanda filled Kim’s cup with the slushy blue concoction and handed it to her with a sigh. “Lord, you’re a mess.”

Amanda proceeded to the register with Kim in tow and slid the cash across the counter. An electronic ring sounded as the door opened, a rush of hot air blowing through the store.

“Amanda, hey.” A voice came from behind them as Amanda stuffed her receipt into the back pocket of her shorts. Amanda whirled around to see a few of her neighborhood friends—Heather, Melissa, and Erin.

Amanda nodded her hellos as she sipped on her Slurpee, leaning on the counter beside the coffee machine. “What’re y’all doin’ here?”

“Same as you, it’s hot.” Melissa proceeded to one of the refrigerators for a soda. “Joey drove us,” she teased, her voice sing-song as she glanced out the windowed storefront.

Amanda couldn’t help but blush—it was no secret that Heather’s older brother had been the object of her affection since the summer had started. “Oh, he did?”

“’Manda, can I get some Reese’s?” Kim tugged on her sister’s arm, pulling her toward the aisle of candy.

“Not _now_ , Kim.” Amanda’s eyes flashed as she wrenched her arm away, and her sister grew quiet, mumbling as she walked to peruse the chocolate herself.

Melissa paid for her can of Coke, cracking it open and turning back to Amanda. “We’re all gonna go see Jurassic Park tonight, wanna come?”

“Yeah, totally.” Amanda hardly registered the question before she answered, happy for any excuse to be out of the house before dark.

Heather and Erin paid for their drinks and the small fortune’s worth of junk food they’d raided the shelves for, dropping twenty dollar bills on the counter with nonchalance. Amanda pursed her lips, watching what would be weeks’ worth of her own pocket money going to bags of chips and fancy bottled water. She slowly drank her frozen Coke, feeling the ice extinguish her jealousy. “So we’ll see you tonight?” asked Heather, tearing into a bag of hot Cheetos.

“For—for sure, yeah,” Amanda said, “I’ll see y’all at seven.” The girls said their goodbyes and walked out of the store, leaving Amanda at the counter with a half-finished slush. Amanda gazed out the window, watching as Joey gassed up his truck at the pump outside. He was two years older and the most handsome man she’d ever seen… aside from River Phoenix, of course. He had his own car and everything… and the most beautiful eyes…

Kim came bouncing back down the aisle and plunked the package of peanut butter cups on the counter, waking her sister from her reverie. “Just this, please!”

“Kim, _no!”_ Amanda pulled it away, putting it back on the shelf at the counter. “I won’t have enough money for the movie tonight!”

“You promised, Amanda. No fair.” Kim pouted, leaning on the counter with a huff. “Fine.”

“Okay, now; let’s go.” Amanda all but dragged Kim out of the store, feeling the heat wrap around them again. She unlocked her bike, turning it homeward. “C’mon, Ki—Kim?”

Kim was halfway across the parking lot, waving at Joey. “Hey! Hey, my sister likes you!” She pointed back to Amanda, the other hand clutching her Styrofoam cup. “Like, a lot! I read in her diary—“

A very red-faced Amanda grabbed her sister by the arm and pulled, eliciting a yelp from Kim. “Let’s _go,_ Kim!” They were flying back to the house; Amanda was pedaling as fast as she could. “I can’t believe you, Kim! He was right there; all you had to do was be cool and not say anything!”

“You like him, though,” Kim giggled, holding Amanda’s shoulders. “I saw you lookin’ at him! That’s a nice truck, too.”

“Shut _up,_ Kim!” Amanda blinked away the tears that pricked at the corners of her eyes, shouting over her shoulder, “What the hell did you think you were doing?!”

Kim gasped, “You cussed! I’m tellin’ mama!”

Amanda squeezed the brakes, stopping them short on a corner. She turned over her shoulder, locking eyes with her sister. “Don’t you dare, Kimberly!” Her breathing was heavy from the effort and her sobs, and she wiped at her nose, fixing her gaze to the sidewalk. “Don’t make me make you walk home.”

Kim hopped off the pegs, leaning on a fence. “Whatever.” She reached into her pocket, producing a pack of peanut butter cups. “These are gonna melt… you want one?”

It was now Amanda’s turn to gasp. _“Kim!_ Where did you get those?!” She found herself blinking rapidly; this felt like the strangest dream.

“The store, duh.” Kim bit into one, rolling her eyes as she offered the other to Amanda. “C’mon, take it.”

“You stole those.” Amanda’s eyes went wide, putting the pieces together. This was no bad dream. “Kimmie, that’s not right—“

“I won’t tell mama you cussed.” Kim raised an eyebrow, holding out the package. “Take it, ‘Manda.”

Amanda sighed and grabbed the candy, unwrapping it and sinking her teeth into the chocolate. It tasted bitter in her mouth. “You’re a mess, Kimberly,” she said, crumpling the wrapper and shoving it into her pocket. “Get on the bike, we’re goin’ home.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: domestic violence; guns. This one started out fun and fluffy but then it got... sort of dark. This is becoming more of an Amanda character study than I had first anticipated. -Ax

“I’ll be back tonight, don’t wait up for me.” Amanda was out the door with little more than a goodbye, hopping on her bike to ride over to Heather’s house. She hoped that her makeup wouldn’t melt on the way over; it was already difficult enough to get it on properly in the first place. Amanda had spent the better part of an hour trying to make herself look like Drew Barrymore from her _Seventeen_ spread; she’d poked herself in the eye twice with the mascara wand in the process.

Heather’s house was the largest in the neighborhood. Amanda stashed her bike out of sight near the front yard and made her way up the walk, knocking on the door. If she was lucky, Joey would answer. She stood as tall as she could, fluffing up her hair in the windowed reflection of the door.

The door swung open—it wasn’t her lucky day. “Hi, Miss Mandy!” It was Heather’s mother.

“Hi, Mrs. L.” Amanda was secretly relieved she didn’t run into Joey; it would’ve been far too much pressure. “Is, um, Joey drivin’ us tonight?”

“He is, sweetheart, why?”

“I was just wonderin’, y’know, in case I needed to uh… spot him some gas money.” Amanda nodded, stepping into the foyer.

“Oh, Mandy, that’s so sweet of you. You’re so mature for your age, y’know that?”

Amanda’s smile at the compliment felt hollow. There were reasons for this perceived maturity. “It’s just nice of him to do, is all.”

“The other girls are upstairs.”

Amanda made her way through the maze of Heather’s house, following the usual path to her friend’s bedroom. The décor was ripped from the pages of a catalogue—beaded curtains, inflatable furniture, lava lamps; the works. Heather truly was the girl who had everything.

“Amanda!” Erin noticed her friend’s entrance at once, hopping to her feet for a hug. “We were just wonderin’ where you were!”

“Sorry, I got held up—mascara is… hard.” Amanda blushed, glancing down to the floor in embarrassment. It was just a movie, but it felt special.

“You want some blush?” asked Heather. “You can use mine.” She reached over to her cluttered vanity and produced a deep pink powder in a compact. “Here.”

Amanda sighed, holding up a hand in surrender. “Oh, I dunno… I’ll look like a clown. I’m not very good at this.”

“Then I’ll put it on for you, ‘Manda,” Melissa volunteered, “Don’t worry ‘bout it.” She swirled the brush over the powder, gently swiping it over Amanda’s cheeks as they all kept chatting.

The drive to the movie theater wasn’t long. Amanda kept stealing glances at Joey as he drove, the sound of the radio blaring over the road noise. The four girls hopped out of the truck bed at their destination, excitedly chatting about the movie. Joey came around the side, offering a hand to help Amanda down. “Need a hand?”

Amanda gave a small smile, feeling her heart soar at the opportunity to hold his hand. “Thanks.” She dusted herself off, and they caught up with the rest of the group.

The girls had exploded out of the theatre with Joey in tow. “Can you believe that t-rex?! It was so _real,”_ Melissa proclaimed, her eyes wide.

“I know, but could you believe Jeff Goldblum?” giggled Erin, “I think he’s dreamy.”

They all collapsed into a giggle fit, piling into the bed of Joey’s truck and making their way back to the house. They dodged the small town cops, ducking down to avoid being seen, chatting as they finished off the last few handfuls of popcorn and candy. They made it back to Heather and Joey’s, saying their goodbyes for the evening and heading home.

“Thanks for the movie, y’all,” Amanda said, heading out the front door, the first of the bunch to leave.

“Hey, Mandy,” Joey followed after her out the door, “d’you need a ride home?”

Amanda’s heart dropped. He couldn’t see her house; he can’t know she lived on _that_ side of town—“N—no!” she stammered, still heading for the sidewalk. “I’m fine; it’s okay. I’m fine.”

“It’s real late, you sure?” Joey frowned, looking down the dark street as Amanda rolled out her bike. “We could put the bike in my truck…”

“Uh—uhm—” Amanda swallowed hard, feeling a natural blush accentuate the pink Clinique powder so carefully applied to her cheeks. “Okay, sure.”

They sat in relative silence as Joey’s truck rumbled down the road. Amanda felt like a ticking time bomb on the verge of explosion. “And… another left up there,” she directed, and he turned onto her street. “We’re the fifth house down.”

The truck came to a stop near her house, but another car was parked out front. Joey drummed on the steering wheel for a moment before he spoke. “You know, Mandy… you look real nice tonight.”

Amanda recognized the car—it was her father’s; he was home. All the blood must’ve drained from her face. Did Joey say something? Amanda straightened, turning toward him. “Huh?”

“Nothin’,” Joey said, shaking his head. “I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah,” Amanda mumbled, hopping out of the cab to retrieve her bike from the back, wheeling it up to the sidewalk in its usual spot. “Um—thanks, Joey.”

Joey smiled, and Amanda felt her stomach flip—he was so _handsome._ “No problem, Mandy,” he said, giving a wave as he drove off. She waved until his taillights disappeared into the darkness, feeling like she was floating off the sidewalk.

Amanda’s gaze returned to her father’s car parked in the street, and she promptly returned to earth, crashing down in a haze of guilt and worry. Was Kim safe? Was her mother safe? Maybe he’d just come to give them some money from his latest win. Maybe he wasn’t drunk. In any case, she’d have to go inside and find out. The weight of her sneakers made the sound of her footsteps echo on the planks of the porch, dashing any hopes of a quiet entrance into her home. Amanda sighed, mentally steeling herself for the worst possibilities lying in wait beyond the front door.

“Amanda, you’re home late,” her mother scolded, her attention drawn to her daughter coming through the door.

“I told you not to wait up for me,” Amanda protested, turning toward the hall, determined to go straight to her room.

“Young lady, you get back here and say hello to your daddy!” Her mother’s arms were crossed; she meant business.

“He’s not my daddy,” Amanda grumbled, glaring at the man emerging from the kitchen.

“Amanda Rollins, I raised you better. Now quit givin’ me attitude and say hello.” Her mother pointed in his direction, and Amanda sighed, turning toward her father.

“Hi, daddy,” Amanda said, her voice flat. “I’m tired, I’m goin’ to my room.” She felt like stomping off, but thought better of it, grumbling under her breath instead as she holed up in her room. Kim was already asleep in her own bed, thank goodness, and Amanda sighed, sitting on the end of her bed to untie her shoes. She changed into her pajamas and rushed to brush her teeth before she jumped into bed, trying to recapture the joy of Joey driving her home tonight for her dreams.

Amanda woke to the sounds of arguing and a song on the record player, hearing the music as it floated down the hall. It seems that this wasn’t just a social call from her father after all. Amanda felt the panic fill her head, sending shooting chills through her system as she looked to her bedroom window—escape plans could be necessary. Popping out the screen would be easy enough; she could kick through it if she had to… she could get Kim out with no problem. Her bike was just outside; they could run… but Amanda didn’t want to run. The sound of her mother’s sobs echoed down the hall, followed by pleas of mercy. Amanda’s mind wandered back to the BB gun in the shoebox under her bed. She knew how to use it now—if her mother wasn’t going to stand up, she would. It had been three years since she’d last seen him, and Amanda silently cursed her mother for letting him back through the door in the first place.

The stereo played on over the sounds of the screams. It was Amanda’s favorite album in all of her mother’s collection, a Stevie Nicks record. Amanda slid the shoebox out and loaded up the BB gun, taking a shaky breath as her bare feet hit the floor. Kim stirred, and Amanda shushed her. “Lie down. Don’t say anythin’. I’ll be back.” Amanda stalked into the hall, staying close to the wall, keeping herself hidden until the opportune moment.

“Get offa her!” Amanda jumped out with the gun trained on her father, her heart thumping in her chest. “I’ll make good on that kneecap threat; don’t think I won’t! Get outta my goddamn _house!”_ He started up, putting distance between them instantly. She saw blood on his knuckles and felt her own blood begin to boil. “You got five seconds ‘fore I start puttin’ these between your eyes! Five!”

Her father held his hands up, attempting an appeal. “Mandy, honey—”

“Four!” Amanda’s grip tightened on the gun, “Three!”

He began to run, and Amanda pursued, still only in her pajamas. “Two! Out the door!” He was stumbling out onto the porch. “One!” He was on the sidewalk; it was his lucky day.

“Never come back here again; _never_ touch my mama again!” Amanda’s eyes blazed down the barrel of the gun, staring daggers as he backed away.

“Mandy, please,” he said, “I just wanted to see my girls.”

“And _I_ wanna see your ass in that car,” she roared from the porch, _“now!”_

As the car ground into gear, she squeezed the trigger, hearing the BB ping off the bumper, leaving a dent that would hopefully serve as a reminder. Her whole body shook as she lowered the gun. “Bye, daddy,” she whispered, walking back into the house, the song slowly fading from the stereo. She dropped the gun as she fell to her knees beside her mother, sobs wracking her body. “Mama, I’m sorry—I shoulda come faster—are you okay?”

It seemed the extent of her mother’s injuries was a bloody nose and some bruising on her wrists. “Amanda… I’m fine,” she said, holding up her hands to shield Amanda from seeing her in this state. “Go back to bed.”

“But, Mama,” Amanda protested, “you need a doct—”

“Go back to bed, Amanda.” Her mother’s tone was firm, and she sighed, refusing to meet her daughter’s gaze.

Amanda started down the hall, scooping up the BB gun as she did so.

“And don’t you _dare_ tell me how you know how to use that,” her mother chided. “You’re supposed to be a lady.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amanda and Melissa talk about everything and nothing one summer evening.

“You’re supposed to be a lady,” Amanda mocked, rolling her eyes as she loaded pellets into her BB gun. “It was a bunch of bull, if you ask me.”

“She said that to you?” Melissa asked, finishing another can of soda with a sigh. “Here, I’ll put this one up.” She carefully placed the can on the tree stump and backed up, watching Amanda take aim.

“Yeah, like I’m some friggin’ debutante.” Amanda pulled the trigger, and a metallic ping rang out as the can was knocked to the ground. “I got the next one.” She cracked open another can and guzzled it down, not caring about the lukewarm cola staining her shirt as the fizziness burned in her throat. The process was repeated; setup, aim, fire. The can fell down, and Melissa grinned.

“Dang, Mandy, you’re _good,”_ Melissa breathed, already halfway through her next can as she marveled at her best friend’s skills. “Bet you could get money for that.”

Amanda smiled, shaking her head. “Nah, I just—it’s practice,” she said, giggling. “You’d know how if you did this all the time, too.”

“Okay,” Melissa said with a thoughtful look, “try me.” She jumped up, outstretching a hand toward Amanda, her eyes flicking to the BB gun. “Lemme do it.”

“You sure about that?” Amanda asked, smirking, “Aren’t _you_ supposed to be a lady?” she joked as her eyes twinkled playfully.

Melissa took the BB gun and stuck out her tongue. “I ain’t no lady,” she said, leaning into her accent to make Amanda laugh. She held the gun awkwardly for a moment, then looked to Amanda. “Um… how do I do this?”

Amanda wrapped her hands around Melissa’s, guiding her into the proper positioning. They were smaller than Joey’s, but Melissa’s fingers were slender and easily covered by Amanda’s own. Her dark, curly hair tickled against Amanda’s cheek as she aimed her toward the can on the stump, letting go once she was in place. “Now,” Amanda directed, “squeeze the trigger.”

The pop of the shot resounded through the field alongside Melissa’s yelp of surprise, but the can remained on the stump. “Dang it,” she huffed, and she took aim once more. A few more rounds rang out in the open sky until the soda can finally met its fate. “See? That took me like, a billion tries. Told you that you were good.”

“Well, ‘s a stupid thing to be good at. What’s it even good for?” Amanda sat with her back against the tree stump amongst the aluminum corpses. “Not like that’s gonna get me out of here. Not that, not runnin’ track, nothin’.” She cracked open another can, sipping it slowly. “I’m stuck, Mel.”

Melissa sighed as she settled back against the stump beside Amanda. “Least you’re pretty. You didn’t even have to get braces! I gotta wear my retainer all the time still.”

Amanda blushed at the compliment, giggling and bringing her knees to her chest. “You hush! I liked your braces.”

“My mama says I look a lot older now,” Melissa said, turning toward Amanda. “D’you think I do?”

Amanda looked over at her best friend, watching her familiar brown eyes catch the light as the sun began to sink behind the trees in the distance. She did look older, but it wasn’t just the lack of braces that contributed to that. Melissa was what her mother had referred to as an “early bloomer,” something that Amanda had yet to completely experience, and it was jealousy-inducing. “Uh—I think so, yeah,” Amanda mumbled, turning her gaze to focus on her shoes.

They sat in silence, sipping their slowly-warming cans of cola and watching the sunset. Melissa turned, and Amanda could practically feel her eyes studying her. “Mandy, your hair looks really cool right now.”

Amanda scoffed and pushed her hair back from her face, rolling her eyes in disbelief. “Shut up, cool how?”

“Like it’s on fire, y’know, ‘cause the sun’s so orange right now. I dunno…” Melissa pursed her lips and fiddled with the pop tab on her can as she grew quiet once more. “Hey, d’you think I could talk my mama into lettin’ you sleep over?”

“I dunno, maybe. If she’s in a good mood, probably.” Amanda shrugged, collecting the empty cans at her feet. She lobbed them into her bike basket one by one, clanging around as they found their mark and settled on top of one another. “You think you’ll ever leave here, Mel?”

Melissa stood and swatted at a mosquito on her arm. “Maybe. If I end up bein’ Miss Georgia like my cousin, I could.” She reached out to help Amanda up, “And I think you’ll leave too.”

“Yeah, I’ll move all the way to exotic Atlanta,” Amanda quipped, snickering as she took Melissa’s hand and stood. “We can stop at my house before we head your way.”

“Ain’t your mama still gonna be mad at you?” Melissa’s eyes narrowed. “Just call her once we make it to my house, tell her my mama invited you for dinner.” Amanda’s stomach seemed to rumble at the prospect of dinner, and Melissa laughed. “C’mon, it’ll be fine.”

Amanda smiled, staring at the ground as she swung a leg over her bike. “Don’t tell anybody, but I like your mama’s cookin’ better anyways.” Melissa giggled—a sound that made Amanda’s heart flip over in her chest, for some reason—and they headed out of the field in the direction of Melissa’s house, chasing the sunset as they rode back into town.


End file.
